


Melancholia

by clockwork_spider



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Adults, Depression, F/M, Fem!Mukuro - Freeform, Femme Fatale Mukuro, Forced Suicide, Genderbending, Hurt/Comfort, Torture, Warning: Mukuro, mukuro angsting, spy flick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5672821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clockwork_spider/pseuds/clockwork_spider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mukuro, spymaster of Vongola, laments on her life in the middle of a job. Hibari, her handler for the night, is there to remind her to focus. </p>
<p>
  <i>It was a drab sort of party. The sort which includes a lot less bloodshed and screaming than what Mukuro would prefer. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Melancholia

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this amazing prompt on [KHR Shipping Meme on Tumblr](http://khrmeme.tumblr.com/post/136610970756/prompt-18fem691869-melancholia). Go check it out. 
> 
> Mukuro is female here, whether she's cis or trans female is up to you. Though, I suppose, with her illusion powers, the mental image would look similar.

It was a drab sort of party. The sort which includes a lot less bloodshed and screaming than what Mukuro would prefer. Still, she should play her part, being Vongola’s spymaster. 

She took a sip from her champaign. There’s probably some juicy gossip that she’s missing out on. The Genoard don found a bastard son? The Marcellos are forming an alliance with the Gandors? A deal between two families went south, somebody had to die. Who the fuck cares? It’s always the same old inane mafia things. 

She took a deep breath, and imagined the people around her writhing in agony as they burned. It calmed her nerves a little. These days, she often found herself restless. Just when had she delude herself into thinking that mere rumours and blackmail could satisfy her hatred, when what she really craved is broken fingers and shattered skulls? 

Since when had she grown so soft? Had Sawada’s naivity poisoned her so deep that she had became indifferent to these men? The likes of whom prodded and experimented and toyed with her body? 

“You have a job to do,” firm hands gripped onto her wrist, stopping the champaign glass in its track. Of all the people to be her handler for the night, it had to be the Prefect. The patron watchdog, here to make sure Vongola’s pretty little psycho does her job like a good girl. 

“Fuck off, I’m not in the mood to humiliate you,” Mukuro snapped, digging the nails of her free hand into Hibari’s skin.

“You,” the man repeated, slowly and deliberately, grip tightening, “have a job to do.”

“I know that,” Mukuro tried not to wince, “don’t you have anything else to say? Oh, wait, I forgot, you’re just another one of Vongola’s watchdog.” Rationally speaking, antagonizing her handler in the middle of a job was probably not the most constructive course of action, but at least it could take her mind off a few things. 

“Don’t be mistaken. This job concerns one of my personal projects. Sawada’s interest aligns with mine,” the Prefect answered, irked, but no bite. He snatched away her champaign glass. How disappointing.

“How I miss the days where you’d snarl and bite at the simplest provocations. It was one of your more endearing traits,” Mukuro leaned in closer and wrapped her arms around the man, fingers trailing across his back. 

“You’ve grown boring, Kyou-ya-kun,” she whispered into his ears, rolling the syllable of his names slowly across her tongues, adding a puff at the end. It’s a nice name. 

He grinned, a familiar feral glint in his eyes, and pushed her off, “I can always bite you to death tomorrow morning.” There was a promise in there, and she was surprised to find that the sight did not excite her as she thought it would. 

“On second thought, forget it,” she dismissed, “I’m not in the mood.“ 

There was a pause. 

“Your periodic moping is affecting Chrome,” he states. 

Mukuro tsked, “Chrome is a capable girl.” She turned away. Chrome had gotten irritatingly perceptive over the years. Not that Mukuro isn’t proud.

“Hm,” he answered. He didn’t sound satisfied with her answer. Mukuro didn’t care. 

“Make yourself useful, dance with me,” she lead him to the dance floor. Closer to their target. 

“Why do you think the vongola needs us? Ability wise, Chrome has become quite a capable Mist on her own, and she has always been the more obedient half of us,” she whispered, voice barely audible to anyone but themselves. 

“The herbivore would not adhere to my counsel to get rid of you." 

_"It’s quite marvelous, really,” Alfio Genoard laughed, his voice carrying over to where they danced._

“Hah, Sawada has his naivity. But he’s not the conductor of this train. The ones who had selected us in the first place, Reborn and the Young Lion. They needed  _us_.”

“You should give the Herbivore more credit." 

She smiled and nodded, it was true that Sawada had a certain terrifying quality to him. "That’s beside the point. The Vongola does not lack strength in fighting power. You and I, we’re wildcards, dangerous, difficult to control. It’s a power-play. They can flash me before the rival family and say ‘Look, we have the notorious Rokudo Mukuro as our pet Mist.’”

_“I have an appreciation for innovations. There’s no reason that Vongola should monopolize the area of flame research.”_

“Do not confuse me with the likes of you, Rokudo. I am here by my will alone,” he answered. 

“Is that sympathy I hear?” She rested her chin on her handler’s shoulder. “I can use that,” she teased with a laugh. 

“Don’t try,” he warned coldly. 

_“It came from a project I commissioned, back in the days. Albeit under a different name. There was one on the six path of hell. Fascinating results, actually.”_

“Oh,” Mukuro said, “now doesn’t that sound familiar.”

“What’s your plan?” Her handler asked. As if it wasn’t obvious.

“To do my job and get some information, of course,” she smiled innocently, giving him a peck on the cheek, pulling away before he can punch her for it. 

“Don’t make a mess,” he warned, but didn’t stop her. Good. She wouldn’t know how to explain Hibari Kyouya’s dead body to Sawada and Chrome otherwise. 

She stumbled across the room. Half drunk was the look she went for. Genoard wouldn’t recognize her. Not with this hair and face. 

“So tell me more about that experiment of yours…" 

* * *

The room smelt like gunfire, vomit, and piss. The man’s blood clung to the inside of her nails, it felt dirty. He screamed, voice full of terror. But it wasn’t enough, it had never been enough. 

"Please, no more, kill me,” he croaked, snot and vomit and tears smeared all over his face. Dying has never been a pretty thing. 

“You know, I’ve asked that before, as a young girl,” Mukuro mused, grabbing the man's jaws to feed a live snake into his mouth, “When your men were experimenting on my body, that is. Children ask the silliest questions, don’t they?" 

"Well, thankfully, I am much kinder than the likes of you,” she smiled, radiant and kind. The snake shifted into a gun. Gently, she guided his broken fingers around the trigger. 

“I’ve enjoyed tonight. Thank you for your co-operation,” she said sweetly and stepped back. He pulled the trigger. His brain splattered on the bedsheets. It wasn’t very pretty. It had never been pretty. 

“You’ve made a mess,” said the watchdog, “this wasn’t on the brief.” He must have been referring to the bodies which littered the hallway. 

“No. It wasn’t,” she looked back, impassive, “I’ve made a judgement call. They were a threat. Sawada would agree." 

"He wouldn’t,” the prefect deadpanned. There was a pause before he placed a hand on her shoulder, “good work." 

Mukuro stared. The hand, covered with fresh blood, felt warm and uncharacteristically gentle. 

"Thank you, Kyouya." 

Through the window, she can see the sunrise.

**Author's Note:**

> Man... Mukuro voice is really hammy. What a drama queen.


End file.
